


bargaining only works for so long

by bogfenwetland



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bogfenwetland/pseuds/bogfenwetland
Summary: theo tears down that wall.





	bargaining only works for so long

**Author's Note:**

> hello from your number one source of theo crain angst. anyway, i wanted to see more of how theo and trish went from what we knew to being engaged at the end.

The couch is the only thing she remembers. It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, she makes house calls all the time. It helps to see how the kids live, to touch the things they touch. But, of course, a kid who needs therapy to function usually has something fucked up at home. Like an ugly plaid couch in the basement below a pock-marked wood ceiling. 

She recalls walking around the room, brushing her fingers over everything in sight, her gloves tucked in the inner breast pocket of her coat. She had eyed the couch in passing, not considering it to be relevant. The fact that she let her palm drop on the arm was almost coincidental. She says almost because she knows coincidences don’t exist. Not with her power. 

The feeling was instantaneous and all at once: a gut wrenching fear that made her feel like her throat was turning inside out. A level of confusion, replaced with fear, replaced with hatred, replaced with denial and rationalization. This kid was certainly very mature with her thought process. Theo remembers crying on the couch, somehow lying down on it despite being upright and simply touching the fabric just moments before. She remembers curling in on herself, feeling small and impossibly dense. She remembers learning about neutron stars in her high school science class.

Theo knows that she called her contact at the station because she knows that the girl’s father was arrested. She knows she got beers from Shirley’s kitchen because the bottles are strewn around her bedroom. She knows she called Trish because she can feel the weight of the other woman holding her from the side. She doesn’t remember doing any of this. All she remembers is the couch. 

Theo supposes she’s crying, based on the sleepy way Trish is brushing a thumb over her cheek. Theo keeps her arms at her side, her fingers itching. Trish is speaking. Theo doesn’t listen, can’t listen. She slowly, deliberately brings her right hand up to grasp Trish’s wrist.

“...whatever you need, okay? I don’t know what happened or why you’re crying, but I want to. It’s alright that you don’t want to tell--” Trish’s mumbling voice cuts through the ringing in Theo’s ears clearly, interrupted when Theo surges forward to kiss her. Theo pushes on Trish’s shoulder, urging her on to her back. She slips one leg over Trish’s waist, knees on either side of her thighs as she leans deeper into the heavy, charged kiss. Theo feels Trish’s soft pleasure before it’s noticeable in the quiet gasp she lets out, just as Theo feels Trish ready to push her away before she actually does. 

The move is gentle, but very decisive. Trish has both hands on Theo’s shoulders, pushing her into a straddling position sitting over top of Trish. Theo’s tears are falling evenly and quickly down her face, but she shows no other signs of how hard she’s crying. Her breath is even, her hands are steady, she doesn’t even sniffle. 

“Theo…” Trish starts, gaze flitting over Theo’s lips before focusing in on her tear-filled eyes. Theo starts to lean forward again, stopping as she feels Trish’s grip tighten. “Please, stop. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Theo stares at her. 

“I-- well, do you want to talk about what’s going on? I know you like to fuck when your angry but you don’t seem… you know, angry, right now. You seem really sad,” Trish offers. 

Theo stares some more.

“Real fucking articulate, Trish,” Theo says with a snap, lifting herself off of the woman in her bed and feeling her feet hit the cold floor. Theo turns her face away from Trish’s line of sight, searching for something to wear. She feels incredibly exposed. 

“Oh, okay, I’m sorry for trying to help. You know, I can’t fucking figure you out at all. You call me last night, drunk off your ass, practically begging to fuck me, and now what? You’re turning me away again? What the fuck do you want from me?” Trish is sitting up fully now as she speaks, propped up on one hand with the other threaded through her hair in apparent stress. 

Theo keeps her head down as she slips into someone’s thong that she found on the ground. She turns to her closet, looking intently at her collection of ratty t-shirts. 

“I want you to leave,” she says quietly. Theo feels the silence, stagnant and cold. She pulls a thin white shirt over her head, still facing her closet. She sees Trish get out of bed in her peripheral, hair falling over her shoulders. The sound of bare feet padding across the floor breaks the stillness of the air. 

“No,” Trish says from about three feet behind Theo. 

“You don’t get to--” Theo begins angrily, turning on her heel.

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” Trish’s face is set, determined as she speaks. 

Theo sizes up the woman in front of her. She’s naked still, little bruises around her chest and neck from last night. Her arms are folded, fingers curled over her tattooed biceps. She’s rooted to the ground, steady in her stance and in her statement. Theo feels her face relax as she looks at Trish, the anger slowly seeping out. Her shoulders slump. 

“You don’t get to keep using me like this, Theodora. Either you open up to me and let me be here for you, or I’m done. Sex and everything,” Trish states. Theo stares at her silently. 

“I mean it. I really fucking like you, okay? God knows why, seeing as how we only talk for, like, fifteen minutes and then fuck the rest of the time. But you know what? Those fifteen minutes are usually my favorite part, man. Which you fucking know is saying something because the sex is incredible, but it can’t even come close to comparing how it feels to get to know you, alright? You are the most interesting, captivating person I’ve ever met. Every morning that I wake up in that bed with you I want to ask you if you’ll just fucking grow up and go on a date with me but you kick me out before I can even say good morning. I should hate you! You fucking suck, don’t you? But I’m still here, because I want you,” Trish is waving her hands as she speaks, the intensity and pitch of her voice modulating continuously. She finishes tenderly, eyes lined up directly with Theo’s, which are crying openly again. 

Almost a minute passes before Theo moves in an unprecedented way, stepping forward towards Trish. She moves slowly, as if she’s fighting herself. Her arms extend from her waist, falling on Trish’s hips. She feels generosity, truthfulness, and hope. Theo lets her head fall into the crook of Trish’s neck. Trish’s hands envelop her instantly, one parting her hair through the nape of her neck and the other resting in the middle of her back, supporting her now weeping form. 

Trish ushers their entangled collective to the bed, sitting back as her heels hit the frame. She holds her spine straight and steady, even as Theo collapses onto her lap, gripping at her shoulders as her own are wracked with sobs. Trish keeps her hand running through Theo’s hair, grounding her as she cries. They sit like this for an untold number of minutes, the passing of time irrelevant as Theo bares herself to Trish and Trish catches her. Eventually, Theo’s tears slow. She sniffs an ugly, snotty sniff. 

“I-- I’m sorry,” Theo whispers, leaning back to look into Trish’s eyes. She feels an odd jump of emotion in Trish, one she can’t quite place. It’s sweet, and extremely powerful. “I don’t… I can’t even explain why I’m, you know, so distant from you. It’s literally my fucking job to figure out fucking feelings and I don’t even fucking know why--” 

Trish interrupts her with a kiss. Their first kiss, really. The first one with meaning, with intent besides a precursor to sex. Theo pulls back slightly, her forehead resting on Trish’s. She stares down at her lips for a moment before leaning back in, pouring something from her heart into it. Trish’s hands come to Theo’s back, easing them down into bed. Theo breaks the kiss, letting a breathless almost-smile come to her lips. She can feel Trish’s heart pounding without even using her power.

“Are you… nervous?” Theo asks.

“Of course I am. I’m about to ask a beautiful,  _ terrifying _ woman on a date. How could I not be nervous?" 


End file.
